Max cursed. “Sorry, man, ever since the incident.”
“Thanks.”
“Anytime,” he said in a soothing voice. “You’ve been as jumpy as a goldfish in a tanning bed.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and made my way toward the PA. Max was famous for taking ten years to explain things.
“Anyway.” Was he whistling? “One month. You stay committed to one girl for one month and the house is yours.”
“One month?” I repeated.
“Thirty days, give or take a day,” he explained. “Unless it’s a leap year or February. Wait, is it February?”
I let out a groan. “September.”
“Whatever.” The phone line cracked. “I’m losing you. My office is like a freaking dungeon. I’ll start sending the girls—”
“The girls?” What? He was sending who? “Max? Max, are you there?”
“Ha . . . fun!”
“Max!” I had a really bad feeling, the kind you get after getting hit on in prison by a bearded lady.
“Reid!” John, one of the many PAs on set, flagged me down again. “It’s time for the wedding scene!”
“Shit.” I shoved my phone into my pocket.
“Head over to wardrobe.” He gave me another script. “And note the changes in the vow section.”
“Got it.” I quickly scanned the pages. “Oh, John, before I forget, my new publicist is going to be stopping by. Go ahead and just send her to my trailer when she gets here.”
He gave me a thumbs-up and trotted off.
CHAPTER SIX
JORDAN
I brought his coffee. Don’t ask me why. Maybe because in my mind it meant a fresh start. One that had nothing to do with him hitting on me or me being responsive to his charm. It was a coincidence we met at a bar first, but now it was all business. Maybe the fresh start was more for me than him. I needed some sort of symbol that what was between us was business and that I was completely capable of playing nice.
Coffee. It was a peace offering, as if I’d just walked into the UN building wearing a MAKE LOVE, NOT WAR T-shirt. I bring him coffee, offer a smile and a pat on the cheek, and suddenly we’re best friends. Laughing at each other’s jokes. I scratch his back, he scratches mine.
It made sense.
After all, he was a man.
Men are easy.
Taking care of a male actor? Even easier. It was like selling cake to a cake shop. As long as I stroked his ego, kept him well fed, and made sure he was in bed at the proper times, I really never had any issues.
My job was kind of like being a nanny to the wealthy.
Did you take your pills?
Did you eat breakfast?
Remember, you have a peanut allergy! And yes, there are peanuts in peanut butter.
Oh, I’m sorry, you’re on a diet. No, cheese isn’t a vegetable.
Nap times are encouraged, yes.
No, you can’t stay up to watch yourself on Jimmy Fallon. Of course, I’d love to tape it for you!
See what I mean? Easy.
And Reid. Well, with his good looks, I could only imagine his brain, or lack thereof, was about as small as the rest of the men I worked with. How hard could it be? He was my meal ticket, my gold-crapping goose, my yellow brick road.
“Miss.” Some geeky-looking techie charged toward me, alternating between giving me the stink-eye and talking into his giant walkie-talkie. “You can’t be here.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m here to see Reid Emory. I’m his—”
“Oh!” The man held up his hands. “No need to explain.” He blushed a bright red. “I’ll just show you to the, er, rest of them, and he can, um, take it from there, I guess?”
“Sure?” Clearly the poor soul was overworked, but I wasn’t one to judge considering the morning I’d had. I followed him wordlessly through the band of vehicles and trailers.
“Must say . . .” Nerdy guy coughed into his hand. “I’ve heard of actors really taking on roles in a serious way, but I never thought it would be this . . . intense, you know? Everyone’s talking about it. On set, I mean.”
“Talking about it?” The hairs on my arm prickled. “His devotion, you mean?”
“Oh, yes.” Could the stars in Geek Man’s eyes get any bigger? Reid was an actor. He hadn’t discovered a new planet! “I mean, ever since this morning.” He shook his head as his eyes welled with tears. “He’s a legend, a legend in the making. Everyone thinks so.”
“Right.” I was starting to get a little uncomfortable with the hero worship. I’d had a few people on set stalk my actors, and it wasn’t a laughing matter. Terrifying was more like it.
“And the women.” Geek Guy’s eyes went wide. “Well, they’re crazy! I mean, no offense.”
“On behalf of women everywhere, I accept your apology.” I licked my lips and decided to take a sip of my coffee. I needed something to do, something to distract me from shaking the small man and asking him to walk faster and stop talking.
“Well.” He held up his hands. “Here’s the trailer. You’ll have to fill out a form like the rest of them. Reid’s cautious like that.” He elbowed me in the side. “And I’ve been told by Max, Mr. Emory’s personal assistant, that if you’re in the running we’ll get back to you in four to seven days.”
“In the running?” My eyes narrowed in on the ten or so girls standing around the small trailer. “The running for what?”